


Pillow Talk

by ogygianprincess



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fluff, Hamburr, M/M, overuse of the word 'satisfied'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 08:13:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6510085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ogygianprincess/pseuds/ogygianprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron Burr doesn't hate much, except for the idiot he shares a phone line with. Some people just need to talk less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pillow Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the '59 classic, Pillow Talk. You know how back in the day you could listen in on other people's phone conversations if you shared a party line with them? That's basically the premise.
> 
> Also we're going to pretend racism wasn't a thing that existed.

Aaron Burr was, for the most part, satisfied.

He held a job as one of New York's most sought-after interior decorators, and from that he received enough money to live comfortably in an apartment with the best view in the city. At least, in his opinion.  
He lived alone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd brought someone up to join him there, but that was of no matter to him. He kept it tidy enough for himself. He only felt lonely on occasion. 

Yes, most things in Aaron's life he wouldn't change a bit. Of course, as with most things, there was one exception. The man at the other end of his party phone line.

Aaron made most of his work appointments from home. At least, he tried to. It seemed that every hour of every day, the line was occupied by the annoying, talkative, arrogant man he shared it with. It was getting quite tiresome, and he was sure his business was suffering. Recently he'd resorted to attempting to make his calls in the morning, when the man surely, surely wouldn't be using the phone.

It was 9:00 am on Aaron's day off, and he sat in front of the phone as he finished scribbling down possible appointment times for each of his clients. He tapped his pen decisively against the table once. He could do his business now, or so he hoped.

After setting down his pen, Aaron lifted the speaker up to his ear, his hand frozen above the dial as he listened.

Silence.

Then, "Oh, Alexaaaander. Would you sing me our song?"

Aaron's hand coiled into a fist and struck the counter as he bit back a curse. Of course the bastard would be busy calling one of his girlfriends this early. He'd been a damn fool to expect anything less.

"Of course, my darling Eliza," came Alexander's voice through the phone. Aaron could hear a piano begin to play, and he briefly imagined him: a young, handsome man (the kind of fellow they show in commercials, all artificial looks and smooth attitude) sat in front of his piano to serenade a lover over the phone. Alexander began to sing. "You are my inspiration..."

The woman, called Eliza, as Aaron had picked up, sighed romantically. That's when he decided to cut the conversation short. He cleared his throat as loud as he could muster, for a moment finding satisfaction in the horrified gasp it drew from the woman. "Alexander! Do you have someone there with you?"

"No, I'm afraid that's the man with whom I share my phone line. May I help you?" he asked, sounding as irritated as Aaron had ever heard him. As if he'd know a thing or two about irritation.

"Yes, you can. By hanging up. You're on the phone all the time, and I can barely get a call through! I do some of my business at home and-"

"I'm sure that's quite the exaggeration, mister..."

"Burr."

"Mister Burr, sir. If you'd be so kind as to put down the phone so I can continue singing this lovely lady her song."

Aaron slammed down the handset. It was obvious he wouldn't get in any call time, so he'd just have to get another party line. No big deal.

Except for the fact that it was, because Aaron was told that the list of people trying to get their own private lines was a mile long, and that he wouldn't be able to get one until at least the next summer. The clerk also told Aaron that if it was a pressing issue, he could always file a complaint. Aaron did just that.

Two days later, his phone rang. 

"It's me!" sang Alexander's voice from the speaker.

"Dear god," Aaron said. "How on earth did you-"

"Mr. Burr, it seems that someone filed a complaint about my phone usage," Alexander continued, smug as ever, "and I don't think you'd happen to know about that."

"Not a thing."

"Hm. Yeah, it seems this person reported me as, I quote, a sex maniac."

Burr's calm facade slipped off his shoulders. "What was I supposed to tell them? That you were taking too much time? I tried. They didn't do anything about that."

"They sent an inspector over to examine the situation." A pause. "A pretty little thing named Maria-"

Aaron grabbed the arm of his chair, trying to comprehend everything Alexander was telling him. "They sent a girl? That's like... Like sending a marshmallow to put out a bonfire!"

"Burr, if you have any more complaints you'd like settled, I suggest you take them up with me, personally. They gave me our call number-"

He rattled off the digits, and Aaron fumbled with the notes on his side table before managing to scribble them down. "I do have a complaint! You can't just take all of the time on our line."

"Well, what do you propose?"

"Talk less."

"Ha-ha. What about some sort of schedule?"

"I do like the sound of that. How about this: you make your calls from the hour to the half hour. I get the phone from the half hour to the hour. Deal?"

It was quiet on Alexander's end, as if he was considering. Then, "I suppose that could work. Goodnight, Mr. Burr, sir."

"Goodnight."

The following day, Aaron was in a better mood than he had been in a while. It was especially satisfying to return home from an appointment to see that his apartment clock read 3:37. His half hour. He had a half hour now! It was wonderful!

Aaron had no calls to make, yet he still found himself gravitating towards the phone and lifting the handset to his ear. Surely Alexander would have stuck to their schedule.

He hadn't. Aaron just about started screaming at him through the phone, but instead paused to listen in on his conversation.

"You must come over tonight, I can't bear to be without you for much longer." Alexander spoke in low tones, desperation in every word.

"I feel the same. I'll come at seven." came the reply. Aaron bit down on his knuckle to keep himself from gasping. That was a man's voice. There was no doubt.

Who knew how much you could find out about someone by spying from the other end of their phone line?

"John, I can't wait that long."

John. It really, actually, truly was a man.

"My dad leaves at six, if he sees me go out-"

"Okay, come at seven."

"I love you, Alexander."

"See you tonight."

The call ended, and Burr put down the handset. "My god," he muttered to no one. He'd started listening in to see if Alexander had backed down on their deal, but he'd accidentally found out so much more. He shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. Surely Alex would fuck anything on two legs. The new realization changed nothing, as he still was cheating on this John guy with at least two other girls who also thought they had Alexander to themselves. He was absolute garbage.

Without pausing to think, Aaron picked up the handset and dialed the number Alex had given him. As expected, he picked up immediately.

Aaron had planned to make a short speech about how cheating was unfair and disgusting, but what came out instead was "That was on my half hour."

This was followed by a string of colorful curses and insults from Alexander's end, which Aaron patiently withstood. "I can't believe you were listening to that! This is an... an invasion of privacy! That was confidential!"

Finally Aaron snapped out of his momentary trance. "Alexander, you can't just bring whomever you want up to your room when you have another awaiting you! These people, you could be breaking their hearts!"

"Don't take out your anger on me because you don't have anyone to bed," Alex said, accusation dripping from every word.

"Excuse me?" Aaron had never tried to fight anyone, but right about now he was sure hoping that would soon change.

"It's quite obvious. I mean, you have nothing better to do than to listen in on my conversations with my lovers. Does that not seem lonely to you?"

"No, it doesn't! You're being immature! I just want freedom to speak to whomever I choose over the phone! Because of you, I'm losing business!"

"Tant pis pour toi, Mr. Burr, sir." Then the bastard hung up.

Aaron started spending more time at his office.

He could peacefully make his business calls there without having to worry about picking up the phone and hearing one of Alexander's serenades to one of his many lovers. Gradually, Aaron started to forget about those shenanigans. It was satisfying to be able to do his job without distraction.

He lasted two weeks without hearing from Alexander again

Aaron had been called on to visit a man's apartment in order to make some plans and start making orders for the decorations. Just another day.

He didn't even have to knock before the door opened and he was faced with a man about his height, long, dark hair tied up into a messy bun. If a man at his height could manage to look up at him, this one was accomplishing it. Cute, Aaron mused. He let himself smile.

"Hello, sir, I'm Aaron Burr from-"

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Burr, sir!" The man grinned at him.

Aaron would know that voice anywhere, but he couldn't quite believe it. He quickly glanced down at his clipboard, where his new client's name was written. 

Hamilton, Alexander.

There it was, in black and white. He looked back up at Alexander, who was positively grinning at that point. He grabbed Aaron's arm and gently pulled him inside. "Come in, come in."

"How did you find me?" was all that Aaron could manage.

"My buddy Laf was raving about his recently remodeled apartment and he happened to drop your name. I figured my apartment could use a little sprucing up as well."

Burr took a glance around. The place was excellently decorated, traditional dark woods with a beautiful piano as the room's centerpiece. "Bullshit."

"No, the first part's actually true. But actually, I needed to talk to you about what you told me the last time we talked. I'm afraid it couldn't wait for a call."

"Out with it, then," Burr muttered, staring at his shoes. He couldn't trust himself to look up at Alexander, who somehow turned out to be much more attractive than he'd ever imagined.

"You were right about me treating them like shit. I didn't even consider their feelings," Alex admitted. 

"I know."

"So I told them all. And they broke it off with me." He paused, and Burr assumed he was waiting for him to apologize. When he got nothing, he continued. "I mean, I totally deserved it, but, um, yeah. I actually feel much better now."

That was certainly a curveball. Aaron willed himself to look up at Alexander's face. "Wonderful. I'm really happy for you. Now can we please get to decorating your apartment?"

"Yeah, yeah, but one more thing!"

"Okay..."

"I'm gonna try to take things slow now. With the people I really like. Which brings me to my next point. How about we talk about this remodel over some drinks?"

"You've got to be kidding me."

His face fell. "Um. Yeah, I should've known you'd refuse. Sorry about that. We can just stay here, I can show you the den if you'd like-"

"I was going to say sure. Sure, Alexander," Burr said, before he could change his mind. "But if you start serenading me over the phone, I'm gonna match my ass over here and cut up your phone wire piece by piece."

"Deal! Let's go!" Alexander absolutely beamed. He was like a ball of energy, Aaron observed, he bounced back and forth on the heels of his feet as if soaking up light from the sun. Even his smile was almost blinding.

Alex grabbed him by the arm once again. They strode out into New York together, arm in arm, off to find the nearest bar to discuss business.

They did not discuss business.


End file.
